You Are The Only Exception
by CinamonSwirls
Summary: Malik would never have bothered with such a thing – a thing that he hadn't understood. As a child, he'd believed – be absolutely positive – that love was a myth. One-shot, mild yaoi. Rated T just to be safe.


**I've had this sitting on my computer for a while, so I thought I'd do something with it. Just a diddy oneshot :3 mild mild mild mild mild yaoi. **

**Rate it even if you hate it :D (although I hope you don't hate it)**

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_You are the only exception._

The moonlight is sharp, piercing through the roof of the Bureau's courtyard. There is a gentle hum of insect life that thrives at night, and occasionally footsteps are heard, accompanied by hushed voices of the couples that enjoy the cool night air. It's the chorus of the night. The Bureau is silent and still. One might have thought the inhabitants fast asleep or absent. In the bedroom of the Bureau, the door to which new comers normally missed, as it was on the far side, Malik sits on his bed, gazing out of the small window. The moon is big and bright and beautiful tonight. His lips curl into a smile when he hears a couple talking, wandering past the Bureau. They speak as lovers do. _"Hm. Love."_ He thinks to himself.

Only months ago, Malik would never have bothered with such a thing – a thing that he hadn't understood. As a child, he'd believed – be absolutely positive – that love was a myth. A fairy story. His parents had argued day and night, never did a kind word pass their lips in the house. The only love he ever knew was the love he and his brother, Kadar, shared. But that was brotherly love, a bond that was different to the 'love' that people spoke of. He'd assumed that people weren't capable of loving those who were not their family. It seemed outlandish to him. He'd never learnt the concept of love; to him, it didn't exist. His parents had sold him and Kadar to Al Mualim, when he came across the brothers outside their house. Kadar was close to tears, clutching his knees to his chest and Malik was holding him. The entire Holy Land could have heard the screaming from inside the house, the curses and abuse that were thrown around like daggers.

"Take them," their father spat, counting the money Al Mualim had offered to him after he had interrupted the bickering, "they're the reason we're unhappy anyway." He turned and walked back into the house, slamming the door behind him. Malik, and his brother, grew up amongst the brotherhood and spoke to no one other than Kadar, his teachers and Al Mualim. The only emotions he ever showed anyone who wasn't his brother was usually anger, but he never really showed any emotion. He'd not grown close to anyone in the brotherhood, as he knew that they would die. He'd seen his brothers' pain when their friends had died in combat, and he thought it foolish to open himself up to that suffering. There was one member of the brotherhood, however, that fascinated him. He'd seen that Altaїr had grown close to a woman, by the name of Adha. He'd never seen her, but heard the talk about the couple. One of his brothers had said; "he won't admit to being in love with her, but it is obvious." Malik couldn't understand this. So could this love that he'd learnt to be a myth… could it be real? He wanted desperately to learn more, but Altaїr was just like Malik. He kept to himself, and only ever spoke when completely necessary. He did not want to be mocked, either, for asking such a question. He would have to observe quietly from a distance.

He never got that opportunity, however. Altaїr violently denied any suggestion that he was affected by Adha's death, much to the misfortune of whoever asked. He refused comfort from anyone who offered, claiming to be without fault. Malik knew, though, he had been watching. The assassin had become angrier, a frown engraved permanently on his face after that. He'd killed all those responsible for her death, too. _"Is this what love does to a person?"_ he thought to himself. Why would anyone want to fall in love, if this is how it affects a person? That was all he wanted to know about love, he no longer cared how it worked, or wanted to understand it. He didn't want to experience what he saw Altaїr experience. Al Mualim, for some reason, often made Malik and Altaїr work closely together with some missions. Maybe it was because he saw the similarities between the two? Malik never knew. Malik had, for reasons unbeknownst to him, become friends with Altaїr. Not the kind of friend one would normally describe, but they were like brothers that squabbled. They agreed to disagree; they were at a mutual. But over the years they grew closer. Sometimes Malik would even see Altaїr smile, and very rarely, they would laugh together. He didn't know what it was about Altaїr that intrigued him so much, but he didn't care anymore. Friendship was something he saw, understood, but never had he experienced it until then. He liked it, a lot.

The death of Kadar ruined Malik in ways he couldn't have imagined possible. The only love he'd ever known was ripped away from him, by the fault of the only friend he'd ever had. Suddenly he regretted ever letting himself become vulnerable: letting himself become friends with Altaїr. He felt betrayed by Altaїr; he didn't understand why he had lashed out at him in Solomon's Temple. A pain, a hatred and an anger towards Altaїr grew inside Malik. He was angry, all the time. He hated everything, and his temper grew short. His temperament changed, and people seemed to avoid Malik. They kept at a distance when entering the Jerusalem Bureau and spoke quickly and to the point, before leaving again. The only one who dared to mock Malik was Altaїr. He hated the man, so much. But something about the infuriating man, Malik found, he anticipated. But that was stupid, everything was stupid. Malik swore never to let himself fall into that trap again. Love must be a ridiculous waste of time. He didn't want to learn anything of this love, and never wanted to experience it.

Well, that's what he'd originally thought.

He'd built up the courage to ask Al Mualim what love was: what it felt like, how would he know he was in love. Al Mualim's reply was simply: "you will learn, Malik. It is one of your many strengths." The day that Altaїr had returned to the Bureau half dead, was the day that Malik discovered that he was in love with the man. Looking upon the man, blood dripping from his robes at alarming rates made him feel sick. His body tensed and his heart seemed to tug at his chest. He didn't like the feeling – it was foreign and he didn't understand it. Malik had hastily begun to clean the man up, carefully bandaging his wounds as he lay on the bed. Altaїr took Malik's hand gently and gazed into his eyes. Malik's heart stopped, just for a minute.

"My mind; it is so conflicted. I can't think straight. All my mind can focus on is _you_. My body aches to be near to you. My very being needs you, Malik," Altaїr had said softly, his voice low. Malik swallowed hard.

"Altaїr… when I hear you coming, my chest seems to… it seems to seize up. I feel strange, I cannot explain it. I am so confused, Altaїr, help me. Is this what love is? Is this how you felt for Adha?" Malik pleaded, the cloth dropping from his hands and his fingers began to shake. Altaїr said nothing, and reached out to Malik and caressed his jaw line and the back of his neck gently, pulling him down to his level, and carefully placed a chaste kiss on his lips. It was hesitant and cautious, as if it was a silent question. Malik's eyes closed and rested his forehead against Altaїr's and whispered huskily; "I understand now."

That night, Malik discovered love, and he liked it. He still does, revels in the feeling. He turns back to Altaїr, smiling and cursing himself for falling for such a strange man. Altaїr sleeps peacefully beside Malik, a small smile on his scarred lips. Malik lies down, running his hand through Altaїr's soft hair, kissing his forehead as he remembers that night. "Thank you, brother," he whispers against the bridge of Altaїr's nose, "thank you for opening my eyes and my heart." Malik closes his eyes and smiles, entwining his fingers with his lover's. _"Love; what a brilliant discovery."_ He thought.

He'd sworn not to fall in love, nor to learn of its pain. But Altaїr, was the only exception.


End file.
